Farek leaned against the wharf post, watching the churning waves below. It was raining a little, just a drizzle. The foamy water reflected the coiled clouds overhead. It wasn’t an excellent day to begin a voyage, but Farek wasn’t going to waste another day. A bird’s dropping landed in the ocean with a plop nearby, and Farek looked up at the spiralling gulls. Many were small grey ones, but a few enormous white ones, shadow gulls, reigned over the others. Continue reading Farek 39
The tiny writing table that Farek had brought upstairs shook in unison with the wooden frame of the Riled Stead. A chorus of laughter and leering voices punctuated the tremor and Farek absently wondered if he should go downstairs. The barkeep, Eraal, had hired Farek to help throw the trouble-makers out, as well as serve drinks, but he’d given the disguised Prince the evening off. Farek sighed impatiently, having lost his place in the last quake, and reread his message in progress. Continue reading Farek 38
The way back to New Mallam was across as many pensive silences as it was sprawling woodlands. Moments of humour were as rare as sightings of cowering banditry, while the errant rays of sunlight fell dimly on Farek’s scowling temper. The travellers, a thousand miles from home, saw some of the Baron’s soldiers a few times, fleeing north-east along with them. The smoky scar on the horizon soon faded, but the memory of the fiery House of Kiaraka did not.
It was Matek who voiced the question first, as they strode down a rocky shale slope on the approach to New Mallam’s walls. “Will we return home now?” he asked. Continue reading Farek 37
After a few days avoiding the roaming bandit groups with the assistance of the guide Farek had hired, the travellers crested another hill and, at last, they saw their destination. The House of Kiaraka was the toe of a large foothill, a two-storey manor surrounded by overgrown fortifications. The outer wall had collapsed in two or three spots, while moss and vines claimed the last remaining guard tower, a crooked pinnacle on the edge of the corner of the defenses. There were fewer visible damages to the abode, but its walls showed similar layers of greenery. Continue reading Farek 36
Farek’s boots scuffed the old wooden threshold as he marched into the Ageless Academy for the third time. He had not knocked this time, but Torga stood up from his desk and smiled amicably. “Welcome back,” the administrator murmured, bowing his head. “Have you had any luck finding a token to trade with us?”
The disguised Prince Gallendris smirked irritably and put his left hand on the corner of the desk. Then, in a smooth movement, he raised the axe he had gained from the Emporium of the Bizarre and slammed it down on his own knuckles. Torga’s cry of shock echoed the room but the thud of the weapon did not. Nor did Farek screech. The crescent blade rested gently on top of his fingers, but the only sensation felt by his calloused skin was the cool tone of metal. Continue reading Farek 35
The city of Arunahn rested at the base of a hill in the Great Isle’s highlands, near the headlands of the Gleaming River. It was smaller than Soros, but larger than the towns and villages they had encountered on the Great Isle. Unlike the military vantages of castles in Oshibor and New Mallam, the Baron of Arunahn ruled from a simple tower in the heart of the city’s residential district. Continue reading Farek 34
They were serving a delicious combination of palm wine and millet wafers laden with slices of fruit or cold meat, and Farek spent his first few minutes at the auction enjoying the hospitality of New Mallam’s wealthy. Of course, most of the nobility of the city had departed on the Baron’s dry-season raid. They were represented here today by stewards and contested by the wealthy merchants and their lower peers. Continue reading Farek 33
Leaning against the wooden wall, shadowed by the eaves and an old, empty wine keg, Farek was nearly invisible. He was impatient, while waiting for Diaren to get the nobleman drunk. They’d been in New Mallam for far too long, with only a few words of Kiaraka from the Ageless Academy and not a peep from anyone else. Farek’s money was running out, which had led to the hatching of this hair-brained scheme. He tapped his head back against the wooden boards and counted the days in his mind. Continue reading Farek 32
A hot, damp wind whipped over the curved eaves of the two-storeyed building in front of Farek and rustled his hair. It had been long before but was growing more unkempt as the days went on. His three men stood at his back, facing the wind and the nearly decrepit structure before them—all three of them. Matek was still regaining his strength, but he was here, and he had fully healed from the illness.
Together, they approached the Ageless Academy once more. After asking at the tavern they stayed in—where no one had heard the word Kiaraka before, let alone its estate—they had decided to return here. Continue reading Farek 31
Candro’s Crossing drifted through the waves, leaving the small, mountainous isle behind. New Mallam had been visible as soon as they rounded the rocky island, overlooking it from a tall, grassy mound on the Great Isle. As they drifted closer, Farek realized that only a portion of the city was visible, a few three- and four-storeyed estates amidst guard towers and smaller buildings. The rest of the city was hidden by the curve of the land. Continue reading Farek 30